


Summer of Love

by elaine



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 07:39:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/619675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elaine/pseuds/elaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's 1967, the Summer of Love, and Jim Ellison has come to San Francisco to find out what it's all about. Blair is more than willing to help him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer of Love

**Author's Note:**

> It's a bonk-fest. With any luck, there will be a sequel to this story posted later in the year.
> 
> Depicts recreational drug use

After nearly three days stuck on a cramped, smoke-filled bus, it was a pleasure for Jim to walk. He shouldered his small duffel, holding no more than a couple changes of underwear and an extra t-shirt and jeans and, turning his back to the dismal grey wall of the freeway, strode out eagerly along Mission St. One of the locals had told him it was about an hour and a half's walk to his destination and though the sun was bright and hot in the sky it wasn't humid like it had been back east. He'd left the kit-bag containing most of his gear in a locker at the Greyhound station, and it felt like he was leaving behind everything his life had been until now.

San Francisco was unlike anything he'd ever experienced - growing up in Cascade, attending college at Columbus State in Georgia hadn't prepared him for the noise, bustle and diversity of a large West Coast city. His steps slowed a little as he took in the sights around him, and as the hill got steeper.

It became obvious he was headed in the right direction when a VW Kombi van painted with flowers and rainbows and peace signs passed him at the bottom of Haight St going up the hill. The closer he got, the more crazily painted cars he saw until it seemed like they outnumbered the regular cars.

By the time he'd reached Divisadero, he was feeling the effects of three days without much chance of stretching his legs. A couple of blocks later he passed the entrance to a park and briefly considered stopping for a short break, but it would only be harder starting up again. He slowed his pace still further, strolling now, and continued on. He was in the 1200 block, and there wasn't much further to go.

The light was slanting from the west when he reached the corner of Haight and Ashbury. It didn't look any different to any of the other street corners and Jim felt absurdly disappointed. Sure, there were plenty of people around, many of them in faded jeans and tie-dyed t-shirts, girls and guys alike with long hair and beads, but somehow he'd expected that _something_ would be happening. Just what that something might be, he had no idea.

He shrugged, thought about turning back, but what was the point? He might as well hang out here for a few days at least, and if he didn't like it, well, he could always hitch a ride up the 101 to Cascade and his father's house. He didn't think of it as home any more, hadn't since the day he'd left to go to college.

So, he needed to find a place to stay. He'd already passed a few hotels, but they'd been dirty and run down and the people he'd seen hanging around the entrances had looked like junkies in their threadbare and dirty clothing. He'd heard people were sleeping rough in the Panhandle and Golden Gate Park, but he didn't want to do that. But neither did he want to pay the kind of prices charged by downtown hotels.

While he hesitated Jim heard a burst of laughter from a small group of people standing just a few feet away. The group split apart, most of them walking off, leaving behind a small, slim girl dressed in a pair of loose, clinging pants that looked like they were made of crushed velvet, once dark red, perhaps, but now faded to a dusky pink. Her shirt was that unbleached thin muslin, the sleeves edged with bright embroidery, and her dark, curly hair hung well past her shoulders.

Jim tapped her lightly on the shoulder. "Excuse me, ma'am..."

The girl swung around to reveal a very unfeminine face, the jaw faintly shadowed with beard, but with laughing blue eyes. "You new around here, man?" The blue gaze slid from his face, down his body and back up again, taking in his still-new jeans and white t-shirt. "Let me guess, you're on vacation from college?"

"You could say that." Jim shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny, for all this guy didn't look older than about fifteen. "Sorry... I just thought..."

"I know. All the tourists make that mistake." The kid shrugged. "So, you wanted something?"

"Yeah." Jim decided not to get riled at the 'tourist' remark. That, after all, was exactly what he was. "I was hoping you'd know some place I could stay. Some place clean."

"Yeah? How much do you want to pay?" The kid pointed up the street. "There's a place up at 1665 called the Jeffrey-Haight. It has rooms for fifteen dollars a night, but you can share if you want to save some cash."

He didn't much like the idea of sharing, but fifteen dollars a night would take a big chunk of his money, and he'd still need to eat. "Well, thanks. And sorry, again..." He turned away, reconsidering the idea of sleeping out. It was summer; he should be okay, or he could try one of the less salubrious hotels he'd already passed. Maybe they'd be cheaper.

"Hey, college boy!" The kid's voice was friendly enough. Jim swung round to face him. "Talk to Naomi, and tell her I sent you. She'll give you a good price if she can."

"Thanks." Jim grinned. "And who _are_ you, Chief?"

The boy laughed and shrugged. "Just tell her Blair sent you, okay?"

***

The hotel didn't seem much better than the others, but Jim decided to take Blair's advice anyway. There was a door leading into a staircase; the rest of the ground level was some kind of food market. He headed up the stairs and stopped at the top, tapping lightly on the doorframe. The upper half of the door was open, showing a small room that seemed to be entirely papered in pictures of naked women.

"Can I help you?" The voice came from behind Jim, and he turned quickly. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

She was beautiful. Long red hair flowed over her shoulders and she was wearing some kind of silky looking dress that reached her ankles. He'd almost swear she wasn't wearing a bra, too. She had a peace sign hanging round her neck, some feathers braided into her hair, and a small star painted on her left cheekbone.

Jim swallowed. "Are... are you Naomi?"

"Why, yes." She rewarded him with another bright smile.

"Blair told me to ask for you." He saw a speculative gleam in her eyes. "He said you might be able to give me a good deal on a room?"

"Oh." The smile turned regretful. "I'm sorry, sweetie, but we're full up right now. You could ask if anyone wants to share. Some of the rooms only have three in them."

The thought of sharing a room with three strangers really didn't appeal to him. He felt a ridiculous surge of disappointment. "Okay, well, thank you, ma'am."

"Or, you could share with my son." She eyed him up and down assessingly.

"Your son." Was she offering him a job as a babysitter or something? It seemed like a weird thing to say. "Uh... how old is he?"

Her smile widened. "Oh, Blair didn't tell you? He's my son; he's eighteen. I'm sure he won't mind sharing with you."

" _Blair's_ your son?" She didn't look anything like old enough to have an eighteen-year-old son. He'd thought she was only slightly older than him. But then, he'd never have guessed Blair was eighteen, either. "Uh, yeah. I'd like that. If you're sure he won't mind."

"He won't." There was a definite twinkle in her eyes as she slipped past him, closer than was absolutely necessary. She smelled of something spicy and sweet. "I'll just get you the spare key."

***

The first thing that Jim noticed was that there was only one bed - a double mattress on a low platform under the window. Not that there was much room for a second bed. He hesitated for a moment, but he'd bunked with friends before, on sleepovers when he was a kid. He could do it again. Besides, he really didn't have many other options left.

There was a small closet with no door, just shelves; and a washbasin with a little mirror over it. Not much else. Jim dropped his duffel on the floor and got out his spare jeans, t-shirts, and underwear and put them on a shelf that had some clear space. His shaving kit went on the narrow ledge above the washbasin and the now empty duffel on the floor in a corner.

He was just thinking about whether to go out and buy some food supplies or just look for a cheap diner when the door opened and Blair came in.

"Oh, hi..." Jim smiled, feeling awkward. "Your Mom said..."

"Yeah, she told me." Blair shrugged carelessly. "It's no problem, man, as long as you don't mind sharing a bed."

"Jim," he said. "My name's Jim Ellison. And no, I don't mind."

"Oh, yeah." Blair grinned and came over, holding out his hand. "Blair Sandburg. Naomi said you'd be staying a couple weeks?"

"Do you always call your Mom by her name?" Jim hardly knew his mother; she'd left when he was just a kid, but he couldn't imagine calling her - and even less, his father - by name.

"Sure." Blair shrugged casually. "She's cool with it."

It was probably some kind of hippie thing, Jim decided, and not really any of his business. "Is there a diner around here that's cheap?"

"Sure, there's a few. And if you go over to the Panhandle, the Diggers give away free food every day." Blair glanced at the angle of the sun on the bed and shrugged. "It might be too late today, though - they start at four."

"Maybe tomorrow, then." Jim hesitated. "Where do you eat?"

Blair grinned. "Jim, trust me, you don't want to go there. Not dressed like that, anyway. You're clearly labelled 'tourist'."

He wanted to protest, but the words died in his throat. He might be dressed in jeans, t-shirt, and sneakers but that was the extent of his blending in. He looked at Blair a little helplessly - and a little resentfully.

"Okay, look, I'll take you to the Free Store tomorrow. We can find something in your size that'll fit in better." Blair looked him up and down. "Guess we can't really do anything about the hair, but if you don't shave maybe that'll help."

"Thanks," he said, dryly. He'd never felt so self-conscious about his clothes before. "But what about that food?"

"Oh yeah..." Blair looked around, found a tote bag made from brightly coloured scraps of material and dug around in it for a minute. He finally pulled out a worn out leather wallet and checked inside. "Okay, there's an Greek place down on Masonic. We could go there."

"Greek?" He didn't even know what that meant. What kind of food did Greeks eat anyway?

Blair looked at him dubiously, then shrugged. "It's great, Jim. You'll love it."

Stifling his doubts, Jim agreed. He'd come here because he wanted to try something different. Eating weird food - he was sure it _would_ be weird - was a part of that, he guessed.

***

Blair was surprisingly good company, with an opinion on just about everything and his head stuffed full of more useless information than anybody Jim had ever met. At the restaurant, Jim picked through the Greek food - spicier than he liked but not bad, he supposed - and listened with only half his attention on Blair's spiel.

The meal was almost finished before Blair leaned back with a self-conscious laugh. "Jesus, listen to me, man... running off at the mouth and I don't even know a thing about you." His eyes sharpened with curiosity, "So what brings you here, Jim?"

"I had a couple weeks free before I needed to be anywhere, so I thought..." he shrugged casually, "might as well check what's going on. It's all over the news, even out East."

"Is that where you're from? I've never been to the East Coast."

Jim shook his head. "I was at college in Georgia, but I'm from Washington. Cascade."

"Cascade? No shit!" Blair grinned. "That's where I'm going to college in the fall."

" _You're_ going to college?" Jim's eyebrows went up. God knew the kid was smart enough, but, "what happened to... what is it? Tune in, turn on, drop out?"

"It's either that or get drafted." Blair shrugged uneasily, "or spend the rest of my life in Canada. What about you, man? What are you going to do when you graduate?"

"What do you think?" Jim said, too harshly. He took a deep breath. "I'm not going to Canada, that's for sure." Hoping to divert the conversation back to Blair's life, he asked: "What about you? College will only get you three years. You counting on it being over by then?"

Blair shook his head. "I'll be going for my doctorate. It'll be more like ten years."

"Jesus, ten years of college? That's worse than being drafted." Jim kept his face straight, but Blair grinned, not fooled in the least.

"Yeah, well, I've already put it off two years." He looked down at his plate and picked up a bit of the flat bread to mop up some scraps of rice and meat. "Mom didn't want me to go. She thought I was too young."

"You were accepted for college at sixteen?" Jesus, the kid really was a prodigy. Jim was pretty sure he'd never met anyone smarter than Blair but it still came as a surprise. "So are you from around here?"

"Oxnard." Blair smiled ruefully. "Exciting, huh? We came to San Francisco late last year, before it all went crazy. Naomi wanted to see what was happening, and we just never left. She loves it here."

"It's pretty hard to imagine your Mom - or you - in Oxnard." He'd been there, or at least, passed through a few years ago. It hadn't really made much of an impression on him.

"Yeah." Blair shrugged. "Things sure were different there. My dad died before I was born, at least, that's what Mom always told me, and she... she was always kind of... June Cleaver. I was her whole life. I think she just didn't want me to leave her alone, you know? When I went to college? She's really changed since we got here."

She must have, Jim thought. She sure didn't look like June Cleaver now. "You too, I guess." He was pretty sure Blair wouldn't have had long hair and an earring in Oxnard. Jim tried to imagine Blair as a skinny kid with short hair and short pants and a polo shirt. He couldn't.

"Me?" Blair shrugged. "A bit, I guess. It's mostly on the surface. But it's been fun."

***

Next morning, Jim woke late but feeling refreshed after a night not spent sitting in a bus seat. Considering that he hadn't slept alone, it had been pretty comfortable and Blair had at least left him plenty of space. He rolled onto his back and turned his head to see Blair lying tidily on his back, his hands folded on his chest, and still fast asleep. Funny, but after seeing the way the kid constantly gestured with his hands when he talked, Jim would have expected him to be more of a sprawler.

He eased out of the bed and wandered down the short hallway to the bathroom for a long, satisfying piss. By the time he got back, Blair was snuffling his way to consciousness. Jim pulled on his jeans and t-shirt, and when he turned around again, Blair was awake, blinking sleepily at him.

"Morning." He pulled his sneakers on, "I'm going to get some breakfast from downstairs. You want anything?"

"Oh no, man, don't buy anything there." Blair grimaced and rubbed his face with a surprisingly broad hand. "Wait a couple minutes and I'll show you where there's a bakery you can buy yesterday's leftovers really cheap."

Ten minutes later, they were walking through the Panhandle eating only slightly stale slabs of bread slathered in peanut butter and grape jelly bought from a local grocery store. It wasn't like any bread Jim had ever eaten before; for one thing it was brown, and even weirder, it had _bits_ in it.

"Wholegrain," Blair said, elbowing him in the ribs. "You'll love it, Jim"

Love might have been too strong a word, but it was okay, he guessed. Blair seemed to think he'd love a lot of weird stuff, and so far it hadn't worked out too badly.

All around them, people, a lot of them dirty and smelly and many of them looking even younger than he'd thought Blair was, were emerging from behind bushes or rolling up blankets or sleeping bags. None of them looked dangerous - more pathetic, actually - but Jim was glad he'd opted to share Blair's room rather than sleep out here. He suspected that some of them weren't too fussy about where they went to the toilet.

A little way ahead of them, there was a small group of people already strumming guitars and shaking tambourines. A girl started to sing, her voice soft and husky and some of the other campers drifted over. A couple of them began to dance, waving their arms and swaying with dreamy expressions on their faces. Doped, Jim guessed. A lot of them were smoking and he was pretty sure most of them weren't using regular tobacco.

"The Free Store will be opening soon." Blair paused to watch and Jim waited, still absentmindedly chewing on the last chunk of crust. He smiled up at Jim, his face carefree and open. "You want to get a soda or something?"

"Coffee." Just the thought of it made him feel more alive. "Where can I get some?"

There was a stall nearby selling coffee for a nickel. It wasn't particularly good coffee, like Sally would have given him at home, but it was strong and life in a college dorm had taught him to be grateful for whatever coffee he could get. Lost in a haze of caffeine induced pleasure, Jim followed Blair through the streets until he stopped outside a old storefront. Inside, the walls were painted white and there were tables, shelves, filled with clothes, jewellery, and all sorts of stuff - kitchen things, sports equipment, even a couple of TVs.

"This is all free?" Jim looked around. Some of the things were junk, but a lot seemed perfectly okay. He even saw a set of skis that looked new. "We must have to pay _something_."

Blair grinned, and headed for one of the clothing racks with shirts and t-shirts hanging on it. "It's all free. It's a social experiment, man."

"A social experiment," Jim muttered as he followed. "Right..." He was still half convinced they were going to be arrested for shoplifting.

Shopping with Blair was... interesting. He vetoed pretty much everything Jim chose and selected a couple of colourful t-shirts with slogans printed on them and a pair of low slung jeans that fit uncomfortably well. "You'll need some briefs to wear under those."

"I don't wear briefs." His protest sounded weak, even to his own ears. He trailed behind Blair like a reluctant kid to the underwear table.

Blair grinned back over his shoulder. "Believe me. Boxers with those jeans just won't work."

Finally, he was outfitted to Blair's satisfaction and Blair turned his attention to the table strewn with jewellery. Some of it was just cheap crap, but some looked nice, for a woman. He nudged Blair. "You getting something for your Mom?"

"Nope." He picked up a braided leather bracelet and looped it over his wrist. "For me. There's another one here if you want it." He added another braid, this one bright strands of red, yellow and green.

"I'll pass, thanks." He wriggled uncomfortably. "These jeans are really tight."

"You'll get used to it." Blair ran his eyes over Jim's body. "You look a bit more authentic now." He grinned then, adding, "you just need to get the stick out of your ass. Chill out, Jim."

***

Since he didn't have anything planned, and Blair didn't seem to mind, Jim spent the rest of the day with him, hanging out in the Panhandle and Golden Gate Park, listening to impromptu music sessions.

Some people had little makeshift stalls or goods spread over a blanket in front of them. With nothing better to do, they paused to look at most of them - jewellery made from silver wire or bits of string tied in knots that Blair said was 'macrame', whatever that meant. Others were selling old junk and clothes. The smell of pot was everywhere, though Jim never saw anyone actually smoking.

"So, is this it?" He was feeling pretty let down, actually. Back East the newspapers and television reporters were acting like the hippies were destroying America with their drugs and communist ideas. "Doesn't seem like much."

Blair shrugged. "It depends what you want. Lots of people have just come here for the sex, drugs, and music."

"What about you? What are you here for?"

"It's an experiment, man." Blair glanced up at him and away again, his eyes roving over the scattered crowd as they walked. "Exploring new ways of being human."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Jim asked irritably. "It's just a load of mumbo-jumbo."

"Jeez, don't be so close-minded, man." Blair poked him in the side, hard. "You saw the Free Store, didn't you? That's run by a group of performance artists. Actors," he added when Jim rolled his eyes. "They provide the free meals I told you about. They got some doctors to start the Free Clinic. They want to form a society where money doesn't exist."

Jim laughed. "Oh, yeah. I can see _that_ working." His father would pitch a fit if he heard that kind of crap. The thought pleased him enough that his mood changed abruptly. "Okay, okay... how about we don't argue anymore, Chief?" He slung an arm around Blair's shoulders and turned him in the direction of a bunch of people wearing weird orange outfits and dancing around making a tinny, clashing sound. "So, what's that all about?"

"Oh, they're the Hare Krishnas." Blair brightened, his annoyance with Jim falling away like it had never existed. "That's really interesting, Jim. It's a Hindu sect, but most of the devotees are actually American kids..."

Jim trailed along after him, grinning.

***

Two days of hanging around with Blair was enough, Jim decided. On the third day he caught a bus downtown and wandered through the tourist spots. Hanging out in Chinatown made him homesick for Sally, his father's housekeeper, so he moved on from there quickly, catching rides on buses and the old cable cars until he got to the wharves.

He could see the Golden Gate bridge from there, and Alcatraz, lying abandoned and brooding, across the harbour. He rode the ferry to Sausalito and back, and then ended up heading back to Haight-Ashbury. There wasn't anything else to see unless he wanted to bury himself in museums and suddenly hanging out with Blair in the Panhandle and Golden Gate Park didn't seem such a bad idea after all.

In fact, he found Blair easily enough, as the late afternoon was fading into evening. He was at a rock concert, hanging out on the edge of the crowd, jigging uo and down in time with the music. Jim reached him just as the band finished a song, and tapped him on the shoulder. "Hey."

Blair flashed him a wide grin. "You have a good day, Jim? What did you do?"

"Nothing much." Jim shrugged, then winced as a loud clash of drums heralded the start of a new song. "Who _are_ these guys?"

"Grateful Dead," Blair yelled over the screaming guitar solo. He shrugged. "Local group. They're getting better."

Not very reassuring, Jim thought. The music was pretty weird, especially as the wail of a harmonica was added to the general din. Maybe they were making it up as they went, because it didn't sound like any other music he'd ever heard. Blair didn't seem to mind, though, dancing in place and waving his arms around, like most of the others. Jim wondered if he was high but, since everyone else was doing the same, he started to sway in time to the music, feeling very self-conscious. After a moment, Blair bumped his hip against Jim's and grinned up at him with infectious enthusiasm. Jim found himself grinning back.

They stayed until well after dark, and then made their way through the thinning crowd to a cafe where a woman with long, straight black hair was reading what Jim assumed was poetry - even though it didn't rhyme at all - while a black guy played some kind of bongo drum. Once again the smell of pot was strong and Jim wondered if he could get high just from being in the same room.

"Maybe a little bit of a buzz," Blair reassured him, when Jim asked. His eyes lit up with an enthusiasm Jim recognised with a touch of nervousness. "Hey, you got anything planned for tomorrow?"

"Not really." Jim admitted reluctantly.

"Great!" Blair grinned. "I'm gonna give you an authentic San Francisco experience, man." And that was all the explanation he would give.

***

As they walked down Haight, Jim kept glancing at the backpack hanging from Blair's shoulder. It seemed pretty full considering Blair had said they'd only be hanging out in Buena Vista Park for a few hours. Blair just grinned when he noticed Jim's curiosity. "Chill, man. It's just a few supplies - Doritos, coke, cookies..."

Jim gave him a superior look. "I guess you must still be growing, if you need that much food for an afternoon."

If Blair was sensitive about his height he wasn't showing it. "You never know... we might get hungry."

He snorted and reached out to ruffle his hair but Blair skipped aside with another grin. "I brought suntan lotion too. Thought we might catch some rays."

Jim rolled his eyes. "You sound like some hippie, _man_."

"College boy." Blair snorted disdainfully, then ran for it. With a whoop, Jim took off after him, only catching up when they were less than a block from the park. The kid could run, even with those short little legs.

"So, where to from here?" There was a path leading through some bushes, but Jim couldn't see where it went.

"I know a couple places." Blair waggled his eyebrows in a way that Jim had learned was intended to show off his worldliness and general coolness. "One of them should be free."

As they wandered through the park, Jim heard voices and giggles coming from the bushes and nudged Blair with his elbow. "If you've brought me here to perv..." He felt a little thrill at the thought, but he wasn't that desperate. Not yet, anyway. There was still time to find a girl.

"Well..." Blair eyed him assessingly, then shrugged. "Nah. There's lots of places we can go. We just have to find somewhere that's not taken yet.

They did find somewhere after a while. Somewhere that involved them getting down on hands and knees and crawling between the trunks of a row of bushes. On the other side was a small clearing with just enough grass to lie on and a scattering of debris to show that it was a popular haunt.

Blair plonked himself down and opened the top of his backpack. Bags of chips and cookies, bottles of pop and a bottle of Coppertone were tossed to the side of the clearing. Then he pulled out an old, threadbare blanket. Jim spread it out while Blair wriggled out of his t-shirt and started rubbing the lotion on his arms and chest. For a kid, he had quite a bit of chest hair. More than Jim had, anyway.

"Can you do my back?" Blair turned away, pulling his hair up off his shoulders while Jim rubbed the lotion in, quickly and haphazardly. He'd never rubbed lotion on another guy before. It had always been with girls and always an excuse for a not too subtle grope.

"Thanks. Now gimme, and I'll do you." Blair held his hand out for the lotion matter-of-factly and Jim, feeling a little silly, pulled off his t-shirt and turned away.

It didn't seem like Blair had any hang-ups about rubbing lotion on a guy. He made a thorough job of Jim's back, while Jim did his front and arms. They settled down to soak up the sun in a companionable silence.

It wasn't long before Jim started to feel like there was something Blair was waiting for. He turned his head to look at Blair's blunt profile. His eyes were closed but he didn't seem like he was asleep. No, he definitely had an air of expectation. Jim sighed. He was already learning not to be too surprised by anything Blair might come out with.

Sex was the most likely explanation. "You haven't invited some girls have you? Because if they're underage..."

"No girls." Blair's voice was vaguely regretful. He opened his eyes and sat up. "You said you wanted to see what the fuss was all about, right?"

"Right." He had a feeling he was going to end up regretting telling Blair that. "And?"

Blair leaned to one side and pulled a little pouch out of his back pocket. "Then you really have to try this, Jim."

He'd already caught a whiff of what the pouch contained. He'd got to know that scent very well in the last few days. "Weed? Uh, I don't know, Chief..."

"Look if you're just worried about getting caught, don't be. If the Pigs start shaking down the park, we'll hear it and get out. I'll toss it into the bushes, so they won't be able to pin anything on us. Okay?"

This definitely wasn't something he'd planned on. Booze, sure. And sex, if he could get it. Rock and roll, definitely. Still... he guessed Blair was right. He only had this one summer to let loose. He might as well try a bit of pot. "Okay, I'll give it a shot. You done this before?"

"Sure." Blair pulled the papers and some dried grass out of the pouch. He started rolling the joint, his steady hands giving support to his assertion. It seemed pretty expert to Jim's inexperienced eyes. Next Blair produced some matches and struck one, lighting the joint and taking a couple of puffs before handing it over to Jim.

It tasted hot and bitter and the smoke felt rough in his throat. Jim coughed a bit - he'd never even smoked tobacco before and it didn't feel all that great. "Fuck, that's awful!"

"Just give it a couple more puffs and let it take effect, okay?" Blair's voice was mellowing already, and Jim could feel a faint buzz developing.

He drew in a couple of mouthfuls of smoke, then handed the joint back to Blair who did the same, then pinched out the end.

"Don't want to get too high, not out here." He smiled hazily at Jim and lay on his back, staring up at the sky.

Wondering if the mild buzz was all there was to it, Jim lay down too, watching the clouds drift across the open patch of sky. Some of them were neat shapes, he realized after a while - dragons and sailboats and, once, one that looked like a naked girl. He pointed that one out to Blair, who giggled and said: "That one looks like a giant dick."

He choked with laughter, and then it became a competition as they each tried to find more and more outrageous shapes in the clouds.

After a while he turned his head to look at Blair. "So when are we gonna get high?"

Blair seemed to think that was hysterically funny and his giggles were so infectious that Jim started laughing too without really knowing why.

"Man, we _are_ high." Blair grinned at him affectionately, and Jim was stuck by how full and soft looking his lips were. Almost like a girl's.

He didn't realize he'd said that aloud until Blair leaned towards him. "You wanna kiss me?"

"I didn't say _that_. You're not a girl." But now that the idea had been voiced, he couldn't get it out of his head. "Have you ever been kissed by a guy?"

"Nope." Blair said smugly, "but I've _kissed_ lots of guys." And he fell into another fit of giggles.

Jim leaned over and kissed him. It silenced the giggles fast enough, and Blair put an arm around Jim's neck and kissed him back. He'd learned already not to trust too much of what Blair told him - he was a master bullshitter, and always trying to appear more grown up and experienced than he actually was - but he certainly knew how to kiss.

It was pretty nice, actually. Blair's lips were soft, and he seemed happy to let Jim do most of the work while still making it clear he both knew what he was doing and was enjoying the hell out of it. After a while, Jim slid his fingers into the thick curls at the side of Blair's face and pressed deeper, slipping his tongue into Blair's willing mouth. It was the most he'd ever done with any girl, as far as kissing went, and he felt himself getting hard. And maybe there was something wrong about that, but at the moment, he couldn't really think what.

After a while he realised that Blair had started stroking his arm, fingers touching lightly but with confident assurance. It felt nice and he didn't object when the touch moved to his chest and brushed over his nipple. In fact, that felt so good he gasped with pleasure. Second base already, he thought, and then started to laugh.

"You're a cheap date," was all Blair said when he explained. He ducked his head and kissed Jim's nipple with a soft, lingering caress; and, _fuck_ , that felt incredible. No wonder girls liked guys touching their breasts if it felt that good. And, oops, he'd just said that aloud too.

"You wanna know what else feels good?" Blair's fingers brushed lightly down his ribs and down his belly, only stopping when they reached the top of his jeans. His new, second-hand jeans that barely reached his hips... Jim shivered uncontrollably, sweat breaking out all over his body. He felt like his dick was going to explode.

"I'm only gonna do it if you say you want me to." The words were just a soft murmur. "So, you have to say it, Jim."

"Fuck, yeah..." Jim moaned. Then, as Blair still didn't move, he said it. "Touch me. Please, Blair."

They started kissing again as Blair slid the zipper down and put his hand inside Jim's briefs. He moaned and humped up, seeking more, but Blair just slid his fingers over and around, exploring slowly, thoroughly, while Jim went quietly crazy from frustration.

"Please..." he whispered against Blair's lips, and "yes" and "oh, god", as a thumb tiny rubbed circles over his cockhead. It was better than he'd ever done for himself, far, far better than any girl he'd ever made out with. That had never gone beyond groping him through his pants.

He started to explore Blair's chest; it felt strange at first - flat pecs and tiny, hard nipples and the soft, dark, downy hair in the centre - but he got used to it and judging by Blair's breathing, he was doing something right. And, after all, he should give as good as he was getting. He reached down between them, his hand brushing against Blair's, and fumbled with the buttons on Blair's jeans. He could feel the heat of Blair's dick, and pressed gently, wringing a gasp out of Blair.

"You want me to do you, too?" Jim realised he was hoping that Blair would say yes.

"Oh yeah, please." Blair wrapped his fingers around Jim's dick and stroked up and down, squeezing with just the right amount of pressure.

"God... don't... slow down, okay?" He got Blair's jeans open and just dragged his dick out, his fingers curving over it the same way he liked to do himself.

Things got hazy, then, and kind of sloppy, as they kissed and licked at each other's mouths, and their fingers got slipperier and stickier, and the pressure built. Jim broke first, his dick spurting over both their bellies, but Blair came soon after. They rolled onto their backs with satisfied groans and Jim watched as Blair continued to stroke himself lazily as his dick softened. His was always too sensitive, after, and he envied the kid that pleasure.

***

"Jim come on, you gotta turn over for a while." Blair's voice and the sharp point of his elbow brought Jim out of a pleasurable daze. He rolled obediently onto his stomach and found himself up against Blair's side. Blair grinned companionably. "Pothead. Are you gonna sleep all afternoon?"

"Nope." He reached across Blair's shoulders, pulling him into a bear hug that only ended when he realised Blair was now completely naked. "Hey. I... uh..."

"What?" Blair looked annoyed. "You can pull my dick but you can't look at me naked?"

"I was just surprised, that's all." Jim sat up, spied the open bag of Doritos and lunged. " _Man_ , I'm hungry."

Blair snickered. "Go figure." He grabbed a handful of chips and chomped into them. "Shoulda brought wieners." He looked at Jim sideways. "Are you gonna freak out, straight boy?"

Jim thought about it, then shrugged. If his dick was any indication, he wasn't going to freak out. "I don't think so."

"Okay, 'cause if you're not, maybe we could fool around some more." Again, that assessing look. Jim got the feeling Blair had been burned in the past.

Between mouthfuls of chips he managed a choked "sounds good", but was honestly more interested in the food just then. Blair passed him an opened bottle of coke and he swigged some of it down, then grabbed a handful of what looked like oatmeal cookies. Not his favourite, but right now he didn't care.

When the worst of his hunger was finally assuaged, they moved the blanket into the shade at Blair's insistence. It was getting pretty hot, so Jim didn't mind too much, and he'd rather not listen to Blair muttering about skin cancers. He lay down on his side and looked at Blair. Mostly, he looked at Blair's dick. He'd seen plenty of them, in the locker room at school and the showers, and he'd never had any interest in them before. But then, he'd never looked at a dick he'd touched. And he'd never lain around with a naked guy before, especially not with his own jeans open and his dick almost hanging out.

Blair looked at his crotch expectantly. "So are you gonna take them off? 'Cause it kind of slows things down, if you know what I mean." He did that little eyebrow waggle thing.

"Sure. Okay." Feeling pretty damn self-conscious, Jim lifted his ass into the air and shoved the jeans down to his knees. Blair obligingly pulled them off the rest of the way. "Happy now?"

"Oh yeah." Blair grinned. He stayed where he was, kneeling across Jim's legs and shoved gently at Jim's chest. "Lie down, college boy. Let me show you what a hippie kid can do."

With a roll of his eyes, Jim dropped onto his back. He might be feeling a little vulnerable right now, but he was confident he could easily prevent Blair from doing anything he didn't like. He got the feeling that Blair was well aware of what he was thinking too.

After a moment's hesitation, Blair lay down, half on top of Jim, with one arm draped over Jim's chest. Their lips were only an inch apart and Jim, remembering vividly what it had felt like to kiss those lips, closed the distance eagerly.

The thing he liked about making out with Blair was that the kid wasn't in any hurry. Like Jim, he liked to take his time and savour every sensation. He spent a long time just sucking Jim's nipples, and stroking parts of Jim's body that Jim had barely noticed before, let alone realised how good they felt when they were touched that way. He'd usually sort of gone straight to the main event.

And of course it was only fair to give as good as he was getting. He kind of liked the way Blair moaned when Jim sucked his nipples and it felt really good to rub his cheek against Blair's chest hair. And when, eventually, they got to stroking each other's dicks, if felt as good and as strong as before.

But even then, Blair had a surprise for him, moving to straddle his hips and rubbing their dicks together between his hands. Jim choked in surprise, shocked by how much better that felt than the roughness of their palms, even with the lotion to act as lube. He came hard, with a shout muffled only by his fist over his mouth, and lay gasping while Blair finished himself off, mixing their jism together on Jim's belly.

Again he watched, somewhat enviously, as Blair continued to stroke himself through a series of tiny aftershocks.

Blair watched him watching, clearly enjoying Jim's eyes on him. But, when he reached for Jim's dick, Jim pushed his hand away. "I can't... too sensitive."

"Maybe I can do something about that." Blair bent over, scooting backwards a bit, and pressed his lips to the base of Jim's dick. It felt warm and moist and not painful at all. "Is that okay?"

"Yeah." Jim's chest tightened. He couldn't believe Blair would ever... _oh, god_...

Blair grinned and carefully licked the tip of Jim's dick again before parting his lips and sucking it gently. When all Jim did was to moan encouragingly, he lifted Jim's dick, still half hard, and let it slide into his mouth and slowly out again. Just a few times, before it softened too much, but, fuck, it was the most incredible sensation Jim had ever experienced. And when he couldn't do any more, Blair flopped down beside Jim again and almost immediately began to snore.

***

For the first time since he'd arrived in San Francisco, Jim woke early. Judging by the pale, greyish light it was barely after dawn. He turned his head and looked at Blair, still fast asleep beside him. They'd spent the afternoon and a lot of the night making out; more sex in that one day than he'd had in the rest of his life. With a guy.

What had seemed simple and enjoyable yesterday - the effect of the pot maybe - seemed a hell of a lot more complicated this morning. He didn't regret it, not exactly; he just would have been happier this morning if he'd woken up next to a girl.

Clearly, he wasn't going to be going back to sleep any time soon, and he couldn't just lie there. Jim slipped out of the bed and started looking for his briefs, thinking vaguely about getting something to eat from the market downstairs before realising that it probably wouldn't be open yet.

Damn. He didn't want to stay there, Blair was certain to wake and he wanted some time to think about what he'd - they'd - done.

He could go running. He hadn't, not even once, since he'd got here. Running always cleared his head and he could use the exercise. Abandoning the hunt for his underwear, Jim got his running shorts out of the duffel bag and pulled them on, adjusting his dick inside the little net pouch and trying not to think about how Blair's hands and mouth had felt. He pulled on one of the old, worn t-shirts he'd picked up at the Free Store and left, carrying his sneakers. He shut the door behind him carefully.

Down on the street, he did a few stretches and set out at an easy pace. He'd warm up slowly, since it had been a while. He headed up Haight towards Golden Gate Park, just a couple of blocks away. It was perfect - the sun warm on his shoulders but far from the heat that would be beating down by late morning.

Once he'd loosened his muscles up a bit, Jim hiked up the pace. It felt really good to push himself after days of laziness. And that thought sounded entirely too much like his father's voice. With a huff of annoyance, Jim broke into a full on run for about the next half mile, losing himself in the pounding of his feet on the pathway. He passed the Japanese Tea Gardens, still closed, and let himself zone on the rhythm as he followed a narrow path most of the way around a small lake before getting back onto one of the main roadways.

By the time he'd reached the Bison paddock, Jim was starting to feel the burn of muscles neglected for too long. He circled Spreckel's Lake, grinning at the sight of the model boat enthusiasts with their radio controls, and started back. He must have done nearly three miles, with the circuitous route he'd taken, and it would be at least another two more back to the hotel, even if he took the most direct route.

It was really starting to get hot when Jim reached the Jeffrey-Haight, and besides being covered in sweat, his legs were starting to protest. He went up the stairs slowly, and through the rabbit warren hallways to the room he shared with Blair.

The room was empty, and the bedding scattered, so presumably Blair would be back soon. One thing Jim could say about the kid, he at least tidied up after himself, though never quite to Jim's standards. He went over to the bed and straightened the covers before sitting on the end, still breathing hard from his run. It might have helped him feel better, but Jim was no nearer to finding any solution to his uncertainties.

He'd only been there a few minutes when the door opened and Blair came in. He was wearing the same clinging pants he'd worn the day Jim met him, topped this time, with a ratty old t-shirt that stopped just short of the top of his low-slung pants, exposing a thin line of paler skin. He stopped when he saw Jim, his eyes wary. "Hi."

"Hey." Jim stripped off his t-shirt and wiped the sweat off his face and neck with it. "Thought I'd go for a run. It's been a while."

"Uh huh." Blair's eyes ran over his bare chest and down to the thin nylon shorts, then back up again. "So, you're not freaking out?"

"Maybe a bit." Jim admitted. He couldn't help noticing that his dick had perked up a little at that blatant survey of his body.

Strangely, that seemed to reassure Blair. He smiled and came a step closer. "We can always just hang out. We don't have to..." he made a vaguely obscene gesture. "You know."

Jim seriously doubted that would work. But he was also beginning to realise that what freaked him out the most was how much he wasn't really that freaked out at all. "Come here."

It only took a couple more steps for Blair to reach him. Sitting like this, Jim's face was pretty much at the level of Blair's crotch, and he could see that Blair's dick was filling out; he could even smell the already familiar musk of Blair's arousal. He leaned forward, pressing his face into the soft fabric, rubbing a little with his cheek and taking a deep breath to capture the scent. Blair moaned softly, swaying towards him. "Yeah... oh, Jim..." his hands cradled Jim's head, holding him there.

"Mmm." Jim mouthed at the hardening dick through the cloth. He slid his hands up Blair's thighs to his hips. "I wanna..."

What? Suck Blair's dick? With a jolt to his own dick, Jim realised that was _exactly_ what he wanted to do. Last night Blair had sucked him off and it had been _incredible_ ; and he'd spent a lot of the time - while he could still think - wondering what it would be like to do that. He hooked his fingers in the front of Blair's pants and tugged. Since the pants were held up by little more than the cling of the fabric, the cloth was easy to pull down, freeing the heavy swell of Blair's dick. Jim stared, fascinated to be so close; to see the dark flush of blood and the clear fluid welling in the slit.

Blair moaned again, raggedly, as Jim touched his tongue hesitantly to the swollen tip. God, it felt so hot! Jim shivered with mingled nervousness and arousal. He licked delicately, not knowing how much pressure he could use, but Blair's gasp seemed to be one of pleasure, and that reassured him. He licked around the cockhead and the top end of the shaft, gradually gaining confidence. Blair was trembling, his wordless sounds of pleasure shocking in the way they affected Jim. He reached down between his legs and squeezed fiercely, willing his dick to patience. He wanted to do this, and he owed it to Blair to make it good.

"Jim... Jim..." Blair's hands cupped his cheeks, tilting his head back a little. Jim backed off, looking up into Blair's flushed face and dazed eyes. He saw the prominent Adam's apple bob as Blair swallowed. He swallowed again before whispering, "suck me, Jim..."

 _Oh,_ god _, yes..._ Jim parted his lips acquiescently and Blair swayed forward, his dick bumping gently at the corner of Jim's mouth before sliding inside. At first, all he could do was concentrate on the feel of it against his tongue and try not to gag when Blair went too deep. But after a few wobbly thrusts, they both got the hang of it; Blair keeping his movements shallow and controlled, and Jim growing accustomed to the fullness of a dick in his mouth. He wrapped his fingers around the base of Blair's cock and stroked it firmly and tried not to wonder whether Blair was going to want to come in his mouth.

"Jim... god, Jim..." Blair pulled away suddenly, shocking Jim out of a daze of pleasure. He shoved at Jim's shoulders imperiously. "Lie back, man."

Okay... dazed but willing, Jim dropped back onto the mattress and scooted back a bit. His legs still hung over the end - he still had his sneakers on, for god's sake - but he was mostly lying flat. Blair grinned down at him for a moment before crawling onto the bed and lying beside him, his head level with Jim's hip.

 _Oh, Christ_... it finally got through Jim's pleasure fogged brain what Blair intended when he tugged aside the running shorts, freeing Jim's dick from the netting and began to lick it with almost frightening enthusiasm. He surrendered to the sensations for a few moments before rousing himself enough to turn his head and take Blair's dick into his mouth again.

It was awkward some of the time, and Jim had the impression that Blair hadn't done this before either but oh fuck, it was good. Sometimes Jim drew back to savour the slightly salty, slightly metallic taste of Blair's precome, or to nuzzle the musky crease of his groin. He smelled like sex, tasted like sex, and his mouth on Jim's dick was like paradise on Earth.

He didn't want this to be over too soon. When it seemed like he couldn't hold out any longer, he gently pushed Blair's head away and they grinned at each other, panting slightly.

Blair planted a kiss on his thigh, high up by his balls. "Fuck... fuck, this is... is..."

"Yeah." It was proof enough for Jim that Blair had never done this before - not like this at least, sucking and being sucked - and it sent a thrill of pleasure through him. He nuzzled Blair's dick with the side of his nose, then brushed a kiss across his balls. "Have you ever..." He rubbed lightly along the smooth skin just behind them and felt Blair's body jerk in response. "I read about that. Feels good, huh?"

"Fuck, yeah!" Blair put his mouth to better use than talking, but his fingers strayed between Jim's legs.

After that, there was no more holding back. Within a few minutes, Jim was coming harder than he ever had in his life. He turned his head away, letting Blair's dick slip out of his mouth, for fear of hurting him, but when the shock was over, he took it back eagerly while Blair gently nursed his softening dick. Soon, he felt the tremors running through Blair's body, the pulsing of his dick and then what seemed like a flood hitting the back of his throat. He swallowed instinctively, barely getting a taste. Blair shuddered a few times, then went limp, rolling onto his back.

Wow... Jim pushed himself up onto one elbow and surveyed the wreckage - himself with his balls and his limp dick hanging out of his shorts and Blair with his pants down around his thighs and his t-shirt rucked up to his waist. With a smile that was bordering on sappy, Jim bent his head and kissed Blair's softening dick.

*** __

__Sunlight lay over his body like warm silk, and Jim luxuriated in the sensation, his eyes closed, his body relaxed. A soft, whuffling snore from the region of his shoulder told him Blair was still asleep and he wasn't in any hurry to wake him. This kind of lazy contentment was something he'd never experienced before and he wanted to make the most of it.

The last few days had been a wild, confusing ride of sex and drugs. Mostly sex, as neither of them were that much into pot, just the occasional toke to liven things up a bit. The sex had been incredible, but what had really surprised Jim was how much he enjoyed just kissing Blair. He'd always thought of kissing as something he had to do to get a girl's interest; it was fun, but not all that exciting. When he kissed Blair it kindled a slow, deep burn in his gut that just got hotter and brighter until the only way to release it was through sex.

If Blair had been a girl, Jim would have thought he was in love. But guys didn't fall in love with other guys... did they? It wasn't like he had any experience in that area. He opened his eyes and turned his head to look at Blair, sprawled face down beside him. With his face turned away, all Jim could see was long, curly hair and a slim, supple body touched to gold by the late afternoon sun, and his fingers itched to touch that gilded skin.

He could pretend, he supposed, that he was only with Blair because he hadn't met a girl, but it wouldn't be true. If a girl came on to him now, he'd turn her away, because he wanted to be with Blair. Did that make him queer? He wasn't sure. He still liked the idea of being with a girl - his dick twitched sluggishly, in confirmation - so he guessed he wasn't queer. Blair had said he liked girls too, so what that made them, Jim didn't really know.

And right now he didn't really care too much, since Blair was obviously close to waking. He rolled onto his side and stroked his hand lightly over Blair's ass. Blair wriggled beneath his hand, yawned and pushed himself up onto his elbows. His hair straggled across his face and he swiped some of it out of the way smiling at Jim with drowsy affection. "Hey."

"Hey, sleepyhead." Jim leaned over and kissed him on the lips.

***

Even two horny young guys couldn't spend all their time in having sex and smoking pot, Jim discovered. So in the evenings, when things started moving, they'd go out to look around. Almost every night there was a concert, impromptu or planned, or some kind of performance that Blair wanted to see. Or they'd simply go to a cafe somewhere that had music and cheap beer.

It wasn't all sweetness and light, Jim soon discovered. There were fights, and they often saw people, either drunk or stoned, staggering around completely wasted. Kids begged for food on street corners and not all the shop owners in the area were happy to have the hippies hanging around.

He found out how bad it could get when he had to drag Blair off a guy twice his size one evening. They'd been heading towards the Panhandle when Blair suddenly stopped, cursed furiously, and made a beeline for a tall, bulky man talking to one of the younger kids Jim had seen before begging for nickels and dimes.

By the time Jim reached them, Blair had already verbally laid into the older guy, totally oblivious to the fact that he barely reached the middle of his chest. Things were starting to look ugly and Jim braced himself to intervene, even though he didn't rate his chances of success very high if a fight broke out. Then he realised what Blair was saying.

"...fucking pervert. You've been told before to lay off." Blair dragged in a ragged breath. "I see you here again and I'll call in the Pigs. In fact..." he looked around wildly. There were no cops in sight, but he obviously saw someone he knew. "Hey, Sam! Remember this guy?"

A tall black guy started in their direction and that was enough for Blair's target to take off, leaving behind the young kid, who was looking increasingly bewildered and upset.

"What you do that for? He was gonna..."

"Kid, whatever that guy was offering, it wasn't for free and you wouldn't like the price." Sam's voice was deep and gentle. He put a hand lightly on the boy's shoulder. "What's your name?"

The boy stared sullenly at the three of them. "I can look after myself." He pulled away and Sam let him go with a sigh.

"Thanks, Sam." Blair watched the boy walk away.

"No problem, Blair. I'll pass the word around to keep a lookout for that creep." Sam nodded towards Jim with a smile and held out a large hand. "You a friend of Blair's?"

"Yeah. I'm Jim." He shook Sam's hand, trying not to wince at the strong grip. "That guy... was he...?"

Sam nodded. "All these runaways - it's a fucking paedophile's paradise. Locals like Blair and me, we try to keep an eye out for anything like that, but we can't be everywhere."

"And the kids don't always want to be helped." Blair cast another regretful glance in the direction the kid had gone. He'd already disappeared into the crowd. "They think they're bullet proof, you know?"

"Don't break your heart over him, kid." Sam patted Blair's shoulder affectionately and smiled at Jim. "Blair's always trying to save the world. Aren't you?"

Blair shrugged, embarrassed. "Is that such a bad thing?"

There was no answer to that and Sam didn't bother to try. "You take care, okay? See you round, guys."

***

They had four more days before Jim would have to leave. He didn't talk about it, and neither did Blair, but it was in both their minds. Jim could see the way Blair looked at him sometimes and he'd half expected Blair to say something; maybe ask him to stay longer. But he didn't, and neither did Jim. There wasn't anything he _could_ say that wouldn't make things a whole lot worse.

So when Blair dragged him out of their room to go to another concert, Jim didn't argue. They picked up a hot dog each on their way to Golden Gate Park and found themselves a spot at the back of an already large crowd. Jim scanned the trees and bushes, hoping that later he could persuade Blair to find somewhere they could make out without being seen.

Maybe the peace signs should have warned Jim, but he'd gotten so used to seeing them everywhere that he hardly noticed them any more. By the third song, he'd got the message. This wasn't just a concert it was an anti-war concert. He made it through another couple of songs, but his nerves were fraying. He didn't care that most of these hippies opposed the war, but that didn't mean he wanted to be in the middle of one of their damn protests.

During a pause while one set of musicians went off stage and a couple of people came on to fuss with the microphones and speakers, Jim leaned over to Blair. "How about we go somewhere else?"

"Aw, Jim... Donovan's on next." Blair's eyes widened pleadingly. He knew how Jim felt about this crap, dammit. "Can you at least hold out till he's finished?"

"Who's Donovan?" Jim asked grumpily, but a slim, dark haired man was walking onto the stage as cheers erupted around them and he subsided, resigned to waiting out a few more songs.

The first song was okay, kind of folksy, unlike the earlier rock music and Jim relaxed a bit. It still wasn't really his thing, but the crowd seemed to like it, some of them singing along. The second song started with a brief guitar intro which the audience greeted with wild cheering and whistling that drowned out the first words of the song.

"... _and he's only seventeen, been a soldier for a thousand years_."

Aw jeez... Jim groaned silently and gritted his teeth. He'd stick this out for Blair's sake. Blair, who was sitting cross-legged beside him nodding along with the lyrics.

" _He's the one who must decide, who's to live and who's to die, and he never sees the writing on the wall._ "

Christ! Jim could feel his legs twitching with the need to move, to get out of there away from all these delusional nutjobs. Away from Blair.

And then, the final straw came: " _He's the one who gives his body as a weapon of the war, and without him all this killing can't go on_." Before he knew it, Jim was on his feet, shoving through the people behind them, out into the open, breathing hard with the need to restrain his anger. He was actually shaking... it was only a song, goddammit.

"Jim?" Blair's voice broke through the roaring in his head - or was it the crowd? The song had finished to raucous cheering. "Jim, are you okay? What's wrong?"

"I can't listen to this crap, okay?" He saw Blair recoil at the fury in his voice. "You stay if you want. I'm leaving."

He turned on his heel and headed towards the park's entrance. He couldn't go back to the hotel; it was too close and he'd still be able to hear the concert. He'd have to... he didn't know where to go.

" _Jim_!" Blair tugged at his sleeve; he was half running just to keep up. " _Talk_ to me, man. What's _wrong_ with you?"

"What's _wrong_ with me?" Jim turned on him, grabbing his shoulders and digging his fingers in. When Blair flinched, he released him and stepped back, horrified at having hurt him, even slightly. "That song... that... he's... it's me, okay? It's _me_ he's singing about." White fury coalesced in his guts, burning, twisting, taking his breath away. "And you... you believe that crap!"

The dawning shock in Blair's eyes was more than he could stand. Jim backed away, holding out his hand to ward Blair off. "You stay, okay? Enjoy the show. I'm getting out of here."

He turned and ran, ignoring the pounding of Blair's feet behind him until the sound vanished in the distance.

***

He had to go back to the hotel some time, even if it was only to pick up his things. It was close to dawn when he finally slipped inside and went upstairs to the room he shared with Blair, hoping that Blair would be sleeping and he could just gather up his gear and leave.

At first it seemed like his luck was in. He could see the outline of Blair's body on the bed, but as soon as he closed the door, Blair whispered his name.

"Look, just pretend I'm not here, okay?" Jim went over to the shelves where he'd stored his duffel. "I'll just pack up and go."

"No!" Blair sat up. "Don't... I don't want you to go."

"Why not? If you really believe all that anti-war crap, why _don't_ you want me out of here?" He was grabbing his things off the shelf, cramming them into his duffel with angry jabbing motions. "I'm a soldier. I'm everything you're supposed to hate."

"But I don't hate _you_." The forlorn wobble in Blair's voice made Jim's gut twist. "Sure, I think the war's wrong, we have no right to..."

"Spare me." Jim shouldered the duffel, but stayed by the shelves. It was only a few steps to the door, but he couldn't take them. "You want the commies to take over? Is that what you want?" Christ, he sounded just like his father.

"It's _their_ country." Now Blair was getting angry too, his voice hissing and intense. "How would you feel about them telling us how we should run America?"

"That's not the point and you fucking know it!"

"Well, maybe it _should_ be." He flung the words at Jim like a weapon. "I _know_ why we're in there. To protect our interests in the region. But what about the cost? The lives lost, both Vietnamese and American? It's not _worth_ it."

"What about the ones who don't want the communists? They _want_ us there. What do you think's going to happen to them if we pull out?" It was a waste of time, arguing about this. They'd both heard it all before. Hell, the whole country had heard it all before. Suddenly, he was just tired. More tired than he could remember being in his life. "Jesus, Blair, can we just stop this? I don't want to fight with you."

He heard Blair's breath hitch in his throat, and when he spoke, it sounded like he was trying not to cry. "I don't want to fight either. And, you know something? Right now I don't even care about the politics, I just don't want you to go."

All the strength went out of him and he walked over on wobbly legs to sit on the end of the bed. Silence fell between them and Jim found he could hardly breathe. He felt the mattress shift and the warmth of Blair's body against his back. He sighed as Blair's arms came around him.

"Jim... you don't have to go." Blair whispered the words, his arms tightening as Jim tensed up. "I know some people who can help guys like you."

"Are you crazy? You want me to desert?" As much as he wanted to stay with Blair's arms wrapped around him, he couldn't. Jim freed himself regretfully and moved away a little, turning to face Blair. "I'm not going to spend the rest of my life on the run, Blair."

"But things will change. They have to change." Blair leaned forward, his voice low and desperate. "It's not right to draft men who don't want to fight. The protest movement-"

"I wasn't drafted. I volunteered."

Even in the dim light from the window, Jim could see Blair's body tense. "You really believe that killing people is the right thing to do?"

"No! Not... it's not _like_ that! Look, I volunteered because at least that way I got a choice in where I was assigned." Jim swallowed, his throat tight. "I figured since I was going anyway, I might as well make the best of it."

"You don't have to... you could go to Canada, or Mexico." Blair caught hold of his arm, shaking it urgently. "These guys... they can make new papers for you. Give you a new identity-"

"No." Jim shook his head vehemently. Something inside him said that it was just wrong, regardless of the legal consequences. "If I don't go, someone else will have to go instead of me. Is that any better?"

"As long as it's not you, then _yes_." Blair closed his eyes, his lips trembling. "Oh god, I can't believe I said that... but it's true, Jim. _Please_..."

"I can't." He leaned over and kissed Blair's temple. "Don't ask me again. I can't."

The silence lasted much longer this time and when it became unbearable, Jim forced himself to move away from Blair. "I'll get out of here. I'm sorry, Blair."

"No. I don't want you to leave. Not now, not like this." There were tears in Blair's voice. "Stay with me and I promise... I _promise_ , I won't say anything more."

Jim couldn't have refused that plea, even if he'd wanted to. He kissed Blair's temple again, and the corners of his eyes where the scent of salt was strongest, and his mouth. He kissed the line of Blair's jaw and his throat and the junction of his neck and shoulder and the spot just below his ear.

And Blair's hands were infinitely gentle as they peeled off his t-shirt and stripped him of his jeans, drawing him down amongst the tangle of sheets to lie wrapped together as the sky shaded from black to grey to blue and the light slanted pale and golden against the wall beside the bed.

***

Blair kept his promise and didn't mention the war again, but it was there between them all the time. Or maybe it was just that Jim knew his time was running out. At the beginning two weeks had seemed like a long time, now they had just three more days. It wasn't long enough. It wasn't _fair_... but then, nothing about his life right now was fair.

They'd planned on going to the beach the following day and, though neither of them really cared any more, they went anyway. Better than staying inside with nothing to do but think about how little time they had left.

Everything they needed - a pair of cutoff jeans each, a couple of towels - fitted inside Jim's duffel. They walked through Golden Gate park and down to South Beach. It was too early in the season for the beach to be busy and they staked out a little patch for themselves and, discarding their t-shirts, ran straight into the sea.

The shock of it was bracing. Blair shrieked and dived under straight away, rising moments later, his hair clinging kelp-like around his head. Grinning, Jim sank under the surface, kicking his way around Blair's legs menacingly before tugging him under again. They wrestled underwater, bodies twining slicky for a moment, then Jim struck out, his arms pulling him strongly through the water and out from the shore.

The unaccustomed burn of his muscles felt good; he'd gotten slack, preferring to spend his time either hanging out with Blair on street corners, or making out in his bed. Ignoring the discomfort, he drove himself on until, pausing to tread water, he realised the shore was just a distant line and Blair too far off to see. Even his voice, calling to Jim, was a faint, thready sound.

Luckily, the tide was in his favour, carrying him back to the beach with less effort than it had taken to swim away. Still, when he was able to set his feet to the bottom, his legs barely had the strength to hold him. Blair was at his side, throwing a towel over his shoulders and steadying him as he staggered up onto the loose, dry sand. He dropped onto the other towel, still spread out and deliciously warm from the sun. Blair lay down beside him, lending his body's heat as well, and slowly the shivers eased.

"Man, what were you thinking, you idiot?" Blair's arms tightened around him. "I thought... were you trying - I mean-"

"Chill it, Chief." Jim turned his head to grin weakly at Blair, "It wasn't all _that_ far. I guess I'm just out of practice."

Blair's bottom lip jutted mutinously. "You scared the _hell_ out of me."

"I'm sorry." He kissed Blair quickly then, after a quick look around to check whether anyone was watching, much more thoroughly. Blair moaned against his lips, but after a moment he drew back. "Not here, okay? There's a place further up the beach..."

"Do you know _all_ the makeout places?"

"Most of them." Blair grinned. "But there's no stores around that area, so we better grab some food and soda first."

"Okay." Jim rolled onto his back and stretched out his arms, arching his back. His muscles were starting to stiffen and right now he just wanted to soak up the warmth of the sun and sand. "How about we do that later?"

***

Two days.

Blair had talked about some concert he'd wanted to go to on Saturday night, but didn't mention it again, and Jim had no desire at all to remind him, not after what happened last time. Instead, they carried some blankets up to the roof and slept there all night, waking when everything was silent to make love under the chill brilliance of the stars.

Afterwards, Jim leaned up on his elbow to watch Blair's face as he slept. The starlight had leached all the colour in the world to black and white, highlighting the planes and hollows of his face to reveal an otherworldly feyness that was startlingly beautiful.

There was no point in pretending any more that they were just two guys getting each other off. Something about Blair stirred things in Jim. Emotions that he didn't know how to deal with and couldn't afford to acknowledge. Not now, when he had little more than twenty-four hours left.

Eventually, Jim lay down again and stared up at the stars until he fell asleep.

***

Sunday, there was a fair in the Panhandle. They spent the day wandering from stall to stall and hanging out with any of Blair's friends they happened to come across. Jim had less than no interest in any of it, but it was something to do. They smoked some dope but not enough to get high, and bought a couple of hash brownies for later.

The trouble was, there was nothing left to say about the thing that neither of them could stop thinking about, and nothing else they could find to talk about. Jim felt heavy and listless and Blair's once seemingly endless chatter had dried up by noon.

Finally, around three, Jim gave up. "Look, why don't I just go now? It couldn't be any worse than this." Although his gut twisted painfully at the thought of those long, empty hours.

"No!" Blair caught hold of his arm. "Let's go back to our room, okay?"

Sex, at least, would be a distraction. And they still had the brownies. Jim shrugged, knowing he was being sulky and not caring. "Okay."

They stripped off, when they got to their room and lay on the bed feeding each other bits of brownie until Jim was feeling pleasantly buzzed, then rolled together, bodies sliding with easy familiarity until they were both hard. He rolled on top of Blair, pushing him down into the mattress with his hips as he pushed his cock against Blair's. They came almost immediately, easy and loose with the dope, and fell into a pleasantly sluggish daze.

The afternoon and evening drifted by almost unnoticed, lost in a haze of dope and sex, until the light began to fade. Lacking any interest in food, drink, or anything else, they dragged the covers over themselves and slept.

***

Jim woke to the eerie half-light of dawn. Blair was still asleep, or at least, pretending to be, and he laced his fingers behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. This was it. In a few hours he would be leaving Blair behind, heading off to his assignment and then to Vietnam.

What would he think of this once the reality of his future sank in? A last, wonderful respite, or a period of insanity? Everything that seemed so important to him right now could, in a few weeks, dissolve into meaninglessness. He didn't want to think that he would lose what he felt about Blair, but it could happen, he supposed. He'd heard stories about the Korean War and what it had done to men sent to fight there.

His thoughts, growing increasingly black, were cut short by the stirring of Blair's body against his side. He turned his head and saw that Blair's eyes were open. A rush of gratitude filled him, banishing the darkness for the moment. "Hey."

"Jim." Blair rolled onto his side, pressing against Jim. "Please, Jim... I know I said I wouldn't do this, but..."

"Blair, _please_ -"

"I'll come with you. Anywhere, Jim, I don't care - Canada, Mexico. If the guys at the collective can get papers for you, you may not even have to leave America." Blair's voice trembled. "Just don't go. I _know_ you don't want to."

With just a few hours left, there was no hiding the truth even from himself. He didn't want to go. But there was no other choice he was willing to make. "Blair, don't. I'm going. Don't make it worse, okay?" To his shame, his own voice was far from steady. "Please..." He kissed Blair's lips, slowly, tenderly. "I love you, Chief. I don't want to fight with you. Not now."

"Oh god..." Blair lunged at him, claiming his mouth with a fierce desperation, hands moving over his body rousing him to almost unbearable need. He swarmed over Jim's body, pushing him onto his back, straddling his hips. "I want you to fuck me... I _need_ you to..."

It was the one thing they'd never done. He'd thought about it, sure, and if they'd had more time, he was pretty sure it would have happened eventually, but now... He stared up at Blair's face, stunned and suddenly nervous. "Are... are you sure? Won't it hurt?"

Blair shook his head, his eyes unexpectedly bright. "I know what to do."

"You've done it before?" Why hadn't he thought of that? A sharp flash of jealousy robbed him of breath for a moment, but then he saw Blair's eyes slide away from his and knew he hadn't.

Blair was already reaching across him to retrieve the lube from where they'd last stashed it. "Just let me do everything, okay?"

"Okay." Jim bit his lip as Blair stroked his cock with a slick hand. "Fuck..." Somehow, knowing what they were going to do intensified all the sensations. "Not too much. I don't think I can last long."

"Don't worry." Blair's voice was unsteady. He reached around behind himself and Jim swallowed with painful urgency, imagining what he was doing, imagining what was going to happen next. His cock throbbed sharply, his groin tightened. Oh, god...

Nothing could have prepared him, no fantasy could have matched what came next as Blair pressed the tip of Jim's cock against his hole and slowly sank down around it.

Heat. So tight and slick that Jim's head swam with the shock of it. He kept still, waiting with his fingers clenched in the bedding until Blair finally came to rest against his groin and let out a long, shaky breath.

"Wow..." Blair released his bottom lip, swollen and wet, from the grip of his teeth. " _wow_... Jim..."

Blair, speechless. A miracle, no less. Jim grinned to himself. "It's okay?"

"Fuck, no. It's _way_ better than okay." Blair licked his abused lip and squirmed a bit. "I really need to..." he started to move, rising along the shaft and then sliding down again. His eyes turned up in his head and he shuddered. "Oh, _yeah_..."

Carefully, Jim rolled his hips a little and Blair moved with him. The feel of those tight muscles surrounding him was so much better than the pressure of a hand. So much better... he caught hold of Blair's hand, the one covered in lube and then began to jack him with it. Blair shuddered again and the movement rippled around his cock making him groan.

Then there was just movement and pressure and heat, and the helpless sounds of arousal. Jim's chest tightened as emotion and sensation swelled together, inextricable, unbearable. He thrust sharply, unable to hold back any longer, but Blair rode it out, his chest heaving with the effort. And when it was over, and Jim shuddered one more time before relaxing into exhausted stillness, Blair continued to move on Jim's softening cock, seeking his own release.

Jim lifted arms that felt heavy as lead and reached for Blair, one hand teasingly low on his belly, the other wrapped around Blair's cock. Blair cried out, his body jerking erratically as he lost control. Jim felt the pulse of his cock, the momentary tightening around the base of his own cock, and then the scalding spatter of jism hitting his skin. He relaxed his grip as Blair swayed, eyes closed, but continued to stroke lightly, nursing the last few spasms of pleasure, and only when his cock slipped limply from Blair's body and Blair said his name hoarsely did Jim reach up and draw Blair down into his arms.

***

The light coming in the window was unequivocally daylight when Jim opened his eyes reluctantly. Beside him, Blair was sprawled face down, drooling a little and making snuffling noises.

He slid out from under Blair's possessive arm and padded the few steps to the washbasin. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he headed for the bathroom. He needed a piss and a shower with equal urgency.

When he came back Blair was still sleeping. Good. As much as he wanted to talk to Blair one last time, to kiss him and say goodbye, it was only going to hurt them both. He dressed hurriedly, feeling strange in the loose cotton shorts and the stiff new jeans that he'd barely worn. It didn't take long, and his duffel even less time to pack. The clothes he'd been wearing, soft and threadbare, he left behind. Blair could take then back to the Free Store, he guessed.

On the way to the door Jim hesitated, looking down at Blair's sleeping profile and suddenly couldn't bear to leave like this. He crossed to the mattress and knelt beside it. His fingers drifted lightly over Blair's tangled curls and he kissed the broad forehead softly. "Bye, Chief."

And now he really had to go, before he did something stupid. He closed the door carefully behind him and took a deep breath. The clatter of sandals on the stairs distracted him and he headed down the hallway towards them. It was just a couple of kids, eyes hazy with dope and smelling of alcohol, on their way home from partying all night. He nodded casually as he passed them.

Out on the street it was still cool, but the sunshine held the promise of warmth. Jim shouldered his duffel and started to walk.


End file.
